Mike Haskew, Author at BLADE Magazine

Bob Loveless’ Influence Still Touches Those Closest To Him

Mike Haskew

-

February 7, 2026

Bob Loveless’ Influence Still Touches Those Closest To Him

Robin Askew moves on, but her father remains there for her.

The constant, the heart and soul of BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Bob Loveless, was wrapped up in custom knives. There was little time for anything else and there were only rare occasions that he travelled. Bob and his wife, Yoshi, made a few trips to Japan or to Hawaii, on a rare occasion to Europe, but most often with some business purpose involved as well.

And over time, Robin Askew came to appreciate and understand the singular purpose, laser-like focus and personal intensity that drove her father. He was capable of kindness but often brutally frank. He was willing to entertain young knifemakers, share information and then criticize or dismiss flaws with stark, unvarnished perspective. With patience that was sometimes fleeting, he did not suffer fools gladly.

But then, his personality was a tapestry, like all of us, an amalgam of inherited traits and life experience. His mother and father had sent him to live on a farm with grandparents at a young age. According to Robin, he lived and worked with the hired hands, not as a grandchild. At just 15 years old, he joined the Merchant Marine when his mother told the white lie that he was of age.

In addition to the knife her dad made for her, Robin’s other favorite keepsake is a photo of him, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. “It’s a beautiful picture,” Robin stated, “and I look at it every day.”

It wasn’t easy for Bob Loveless, right from the start. But he made something of his opportunities and his native talents, shared them in the way he knew how, paying the price along the way and leaving a body of work of insight into what is beauty and flow in a handmade knife, like no one else has. For the record, he never billed himself as the world’s best knifemaker. He wasn’t, and he freely acknowledged that others were much more deserving of applause for their skills. It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that thoroughly set him apart.

Four Careers

When Robin grew up, moved out and moved on, she carried the best and the most worrisome of life experiences with her. She made her own way and has come to understand and appreciate the journey.

“I’ve really had four careers,” she reflected. “I worked 11 years in the banking industry and 20 years as a correctional peace officer at Pelican Bay State Prison in Crescent City, California, with 12 years as a peace officer. Put that together with the work in Dad’s office and then when my husband, Jimmie Askew, and I had a restaurant in Crescent City, California.”
When she worked in banking, Robin went to Crescent City on business for her employer. While there she met the most eligible bachelor in town. “It was a 400-mile, eight-hour drive to Crescent City, and I was supposed to be there for a month,” she said. “It became one of those wonderful love stories. Jimmie and I were meant to be together.”

Bob Loveless photographed Robin’s son Nico during a regular visit while they were “out and about.” Nico was 9. The resemblance to his grandfather is striking. (Bob Loveless image)

Jimmie was an award-winning chef, and with Robin’s business background the couple put together a fine restaurant that served a variety of entrees.

“I met Jimmie in 1984,” she recalled wistfully. “We got married the next year, and he passed away 12 years later. He made prime rib, barbecue pork spareribs and fresh seafood. He would go out in the morning on his boat and catch 300 to 400 pounds of rock cod. He would clean the fish and then serve it that night. It was the best seafood in all of Crescent City—wonderful. We also had meat from our mesquite grill, chicken parmesan, grilled Italian sausage, vegetarian dishes and the deep-fried seafood platter.”

Nico

The couple had one son, Nico, who is now 36. When Robin speaks of those days, a tinge of heartache touches her words. But also during that time, she rediscovered the love and care that her father had always had for the family.

“Dad came up from Riverside to visit us a month before Jimmie died,” Robin recalled. He had been in touch by telephone continually and made himself the father figure that a 7-year-old boy needed during a tragic time.

“After Jimmie died, Dad would come up regularly,” Robin related. “He took Nico fishing four or five times a year. Grandpa was there for Nico. He taught him how to shoot a gun and would charter a boat on the Chetco River in Oregon and they would fish together. He came up to see Nico play soccer, baseball and football, and he stepped in to take care of my son.”

When Bob wasn’t physically present, he was always in touch with Robin and Nico. He worried that Robin worked in the toughest place at Pelican Bay State Prison. It was called the “shoe,” and he once told Robin how he worried for her safety. Her response was from deep inside, a manifestation of something she learned when her father made the introduction to that Japanese gentleman years earlier: “I told my dad, ‘I show them [the inmates] respect, and they show me respect. It’s really the safest place in the prison to work.’ I told him there were two officers for every inmate and that I really had no qualms about it.”

Bob took this picture when he visited Robin and Nico not long after Jimmie Askew passed away. Nico was 10.

That soft spot in Bob’s heart came through time and again as he cared for his daughter and grandson. “He would call us and say, ‘What’s Nico doing?’ He wrote a check to pay for Nico’s braces. He was there for both of us. Being a widow raising a young boy, I could call him anytime and we would talk. I also started to do that with my mother because I wanted to reach out and make sure that my contact with my family was really strong. Dad was so far away, but I talked to him at least once a week. He became the type of dad that my son needed.”

Traits & Quirks

All the while, the legend of Bob Loveless continued to grow. Tales were told. Knives were made and sold. Stories were swapped, and the maker slowly but surely grasped his own impact on the world of knives. At the same time, his various interests, personality traits and, yes, his quirks made him more than just a knifemaking phenomenon. They made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.

Bob always carried a gun. “Even when I was a little girl,” Robin laughed, “I remember that he would hang his gun on the towel rack in the bathroom.” For some time, he enjoyed rabbit hunting in the desert with friends. But then another fork in the road pointed a different direction when it came to outdoor activities.

It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that set Bob Loveless apart. Few if any of his knives capture these traits better than his Big Bear fighter in sheep horn and gold engraving by Dan Wilkerson. (from the John Denton collection; Eric Eggly/PointSeven image)

Robin commented, “They took a lot of hunting trips, and one day Dad decided to stop shooting animals with a gun. He started shooting pictures with a camera. He loved photography, and I have no idea how all that started—but, gosh, I remember when I was a young kid he would take me and Allison on the weekends to camera stores. He would go in and talk for a couple of hours, and we were bored out of our minds. He would take pictures like you wouldn’t believe.”

Adding to Bob’s repertoire of activities, he was also an accomplished gunsmith. If these endeavors sound like a lot to pack into a lifetime, then there is no hesitation in labeling Loveless a true “Renaissance Man.”

Nonetheless, he had pursued his passions, probably without seeking the fame that came along with them. “I do know he never liked living in fancy houses,” Robin remarked. “But he had sports cars, and his favorite car depended on his age bracket. He would drive the back roads to the Chinese restaurant in Riverside and hit 100 miles per hour. At one time, he had three cars and two airplanes. He was a pilot with a lot of camera equipment. He probably got his pilot’s license before he moved to Riverside. I forget what year he got rid of his planes. He had crashed and it was no fault of his own. It happened when a bigger plane was landing and he got banged up. He had a limp after that.”

Keepsakes

Writes Robin: “My handsome son Nico as he is today, shaggy beard and all. As a mother, I think his eyes and smile show what a kind and good man he is. I know his grandpa would agree with me and like this picture very much.”

Today, Robin’s heart is warmed by her memories, her strong Christian faith, and the knowledge that her dad truly became a father. His life was a mosaic of love and loss, turmoil and moments of calm, fiery and icy emotion, but always with a heart for the good and for his family. She clings to at least a couple of special items that symbolize the tie that binds.

He made a banana skinner for her when she graduated from high school. “It has a stag handle with intricate engraving that he had done by a silversmith,” Robin said, “and I think the handle is at least 6 inches long with the blade about 7 inches. It is absolutely beautiful.”

A few years ago, Steve Johnson cleaned the knife up and put an edge on it. Dave Ellis took photographs of the one-of-a-kind piece, and John Denton, likely the foremost authority on Loveless knives in the world today, offered powerful words and urged her to treasure it always.

His various interests, personality traits and quirks made Bob Loveless more than just a knifemaking phenomenon—they made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.

The other keepsake is a photo of Bob, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. It captures a sliver of his enjoyment of life, a glimpse into the heart and soul of just who he was. He was the gruff guy that gave generously to the local animal shelter, the edgy and matter-of-fact curmudgeon who handed substantial financial support to the UPS driver who had served faithfully in the area for years when Bob found out the guy had fallen on hard times. He was simply their quiet benefactor.

“It’s a beautiful picture and I look at it every day,” Robin offered. She ponders exactly where his genius came from and concludes that he inherited it from his mother. She admits that the spark of “genius” has not emerged from any other family member and concludes, “It was meant to be. That kind of genius is created before birth. My father was extremely gifted, and I always knew that.”

True enough, he was gifted, and in some ways that only a relative few others were even aware of.

Growing up Loveless and living within the sphere of influence her famous father created has been an adventure for Robin Askew, a thrill ride that began so many years ago, one that continues well after her dad’s departure from this Earth.

Growing Up Loveless: Reflections On The Master From His Daughter

Mike Haskew

-

January 16, 2026

0

Growing Up Loveless: Reflections On The Master From His Daughter

Robin Askew reflects on being the daughter of Bob Loveless.

It was intimate and distant. It was warm and aloof. It was youth, adulthood, hope and memory—all at the same time.

Robin Askew is 70 years old now. She lives a quiet life in Sacramento, California, and her recollections of growing up as the daughter of a legend offer insights into years of experiences that few could imagine. Her father, BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Bob Loveless, was and remains one of the titans of the custom knife industry. He has been gone more than 15 years, but his imprint on the past, present and future of custom knives is unmistakable and not about to wane.

Bob Loveless (center) talks with David Crosby (right) of Crosby, Stills and Nash at the 1989 California Custom Knife Show. The two were good friends, with Loveless an inveterate harmonica player who at times would play with CSN at a local bar or night club. At left is a young, mustachioed Steve D’Lack, coordinator today of the New York and Nashville Custom Knife Shows. (John Denton image)

Likewise, those who knew him remember his unforgettable, often larger-than-life persona. Creative genius, irascibility, generosity and unique perspective came together in Loveless, the man who shaped custom knives and literally changed the landscape in tangible ways, including steel and its components, and in intangible ways such as the sweep of the blade, its flow and form, and the aesthetic qualities that characterized his legacy.

Robin experienced the evolution, both in the life of Loveless and in the industry that he forever altered. From her earliest memories, her father was a busy man building a future one knife at a time, crafting a legend—whether he knew it or not—one innovation after another from a basement in Delaware to his shops in California. In the midst of it all, growing up Loveless was a complex, frustrating, fallible, forgiving and ultimately joyous journey.

David Crosby owned this ivory-handled Loveless utility knife fully engraved by H.H. Frank. According to John Denton, it sold for $22,000 a few years ago. (Cory Martin image)

“Some people were actually frightened of him,” Robin smiled. “They might have been put off. But his bark was so much worse than his bite. Over the years, my father was so amazed by the fact that others regarded him with such a high standard. He didn’t embrace that at all. One time he said to me, ‘They still think I’m the greatest.’ That was something that he had never imagined and never really came to terms with.”

Bob Loveless made contributions to the knife industry on multiple levels. He was instrumental in the formation of The Knifemakers’ Guild and in establishing the custom knife market in concert with other great men like the incomparable Cutlery Hall-of-Famer A.G. Russell. Loveless reached across the globe and developed relationships in Japan that eventually brought ATS-34 stainless steel, a staple in blade construction, to other markets. He was a metallurgist who concocted his own steel composition and made Micarta® a handle material of choice. The curve and the sweep of the drop-point hunter and other Loveless creations touch the senses and influence generations of admirers even now.

Robin Askew is alive and living well today at 70.

For Robin, more than half a century of a legend in the making is remembered in light and shadow, the image of her father at work tirelessly building and brainstorming and striving to make his way, and in turn taking care of those close to him. It was, at times, both turbulent and tender, but always something new.

“Daddy was super, super busy,” Robin recalled. “I never made a knife, just swept the shop floor. He would do things in batches and stages, and one of the most fascinating things I remember was when he would cut the leather and make the sheaths on a big stitching machine. He did everything with the knives, from drawing out the patterns to grinding the blades down and shaping them and putting the Micarta, stag or ivory handles on them. After he ground batches of blades, he would test them, pointing them down and dropping them onto the concrete floor of the shop. If the tip cracked, the whole batch of blades would be thrown away—but that never happened.”

Through the years, there were times when the family fractured, quite probably due at least in part to the stress and strain of a one-man enterprise that was on the rise, moving through uncharted territory and challenges. While something incredible was eventually gained, there was a cost to be counted. But such is true in life, true for everyone and in every relationship.

Lawndale & Riverside

For much of her young life in Lawndale, California, Robin lived in a small house with her mother and sister while her father lived in a studio apartment just down the road and worked in his basic shop.

“At the time I grew up with my dad, Allison and I were the oldest, and then Mary came along nine years later,” Robin commented. “Dad was getting to be known while the shop was in Lawndale, and when I was a senior in high school in 1973, the shop in Riverside, California, was not quite ready.

Taken on Christmas 1982, Loveless’s three daughters appear together, in back from left, Robin, Alison and Mary. Bob has his arm around Alison’s daughter Anna, the first Loveless grandchild.

“Still, he was getting telephone calls all the time. We would answer them in the house when he was working, and finally he put a phone in the shop because we had been taking all the calls,” she laughed. “He hired me to be his little secretary, and I would send out the catalogs and address them and seal them and take messages. It was a little weekend job, nice and fun.”

The relocation to Riverside occurred about 1974, and Robin remembers the dramatic change from Lawndale in terms of shop sophistication. “I had moved away,” she said, “and when I came to the shop in Riverside, it was so much more advanced than the little Lawndale shop with so many machines and things to look at. I was fascinated by everything he did, and it was fun to sit in his office.”

Along For The Ride

“Some people were actually frightened of him,” Robin said of her father. “They might have been put off. But his bark was so much worse than his bite.”

By that time, though, the Loveless mystique was already established. Bob was well on his way to custom knife stardom. And those around him? Well, they were along for the ride.

“People had started to come over and meet my dad,” Robin smiled. “There were so many people, different people, ordering knives. He would hang up the phone and say, ‘OK, John Wayne just ordered a knife.’”

Bob Loveless became a friend to the prominent, the eclectic and a diverse spectrum of admirers. Although they may have shared little else, they were each drawn, like moths to a flame, to the world and work of a master. Loveless met David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash, stars of the pop music scene with their fame growing exponentially in the late 1960s. Crosby was a frequent visitor.

“When Dad first met them, the three were playing the circuit,” Robin remarked. “They were performing in bars and night clubs, and Dad would sit in with them on stage and play his harmonica. He loved to play the harmonica and had a lot of fun with them. Crosby would come to where Dad lived in the studio apartment about a quarter mile down the street from the house in Lawndale and just hang out. One time, he came to the door and said, ‘Is your dad here?’ and I yelled, ‘Dad, David Crosby is at the front door!’ They would just talk and enjoy themselves and do their thing.

“One time Crosby came into the kitchen and said, ‘Robin, can you make me a cup of coffee? You’re the only one who knows how I like it.’ This is 1973. These guys are really hot. And I’m a senior in high school!”

Vietnam

Robin visited her dad after he set up shop in Riverside, California, where this shot was taken in the backyard. She was 18.

During the 1960s and ’70s, Bob made many knives for military personnel, but Robin says he was sensitive to the situation when it came to his children. “My war was Vietnam,” she reflected, “and Dad made a lot of combat knives for Marines and Special Operations people who went overseas. I never knew that until I was an adult, and I don’t think Dad wanted us to know that. The war was so horrific in my eyes, but I supported everyone who ever went there. Some of them were my schoolmates.

“Dad was not a part of the California culture of that time,” she continued, “because he was always making knives. He had a lot of them on back order, and he would tell me the wait time was five years or six years, and later it got up to 10 years. He didn’t ever really have time to leave the shop, and he never discussed political things unless I called and asked his opinion about something. I do know that he made fighting knives—and these were like ‘killer knives.’ They were unbelievable. Then, his mother and stepfather were murdered in Ohio in 1985. They were stabbed to death in a robbery while he was in Japan.

According to John Denton, Loveless made this fighter in tulip wood with skull-cracker in Lawndale, California, for CIA operative Harry Archer. (Hiro Soga image)

“The decision was made not to tell him about it until he came home. He had already had a heart attack. So, after he was given the terrible news, I believe he felt bad about making knives because sometimes knives took people’s lives. Afterward, he no longer made combat knives.”

The life and times of Bob Loveless were surreal, energized and unequalled in excitement. “I remember once when a gentleman from Japan visited us in California,” Robin added. “My dad was instrumental in helping the Japanese Guild get started, and they would send makers over to work with him. I had no idea who this gentleman was, and you’ve got to remember that the Lawndale shop was just a tiny square box, not fancy but where he had put everything he had into it. This Japanese gentleman bowed to me. I was 16 at the time—and honored that he would bow to me. I didn’t really understand, but Dad said, ‘That’s what they do. They respect us, and they copy us because they respect our work.’”

Bob’s Beehive

Bob also cultivated a relationship with his one-time landlord, Dr. Dixon. He rented a house from Dixon and subsequently bought it. He made knives that Dixon collected, even naming a fighter style after his friend, this one with the Loveless signature logo. (John Denton image)

The Loveless shop, in Lawndale and then Riverside, was a beehive of activity. First, Bob was a solo act, and then great partnerships and friendships emerged. “In the morning, I would go to school, and he was busy all day,” Robin said. “Steve Johnson came in and was his partner. Steve was like an older brother to me. He was a very good boy, very shy and dedicated to learning the craft from my dad. He is maybe five years older than I am, and he grew into a wonderful man.

“Steve had a Camaro, and he would let me drive it,” she continued. “It had a manual shift, not an automatic. I went for the test to get my driver’s license in that car, and it didn’t go too well. The instructor said, ‘Are you all right? You turned too much!’ When we got back to the DMV, I told Steve I had flunked. But he still let me drive his car back home.”

The most famous Loveless knife of all, the drop-point hunter or, as he called it, the dropped hunter.(Dave Ellis/Exquisiteknives.com image)

Bob also cultivated a relationship with his one-time landlord, Dr. Dixon. He rented a house from Dixon and subsequently bought it. He made knives that Dixon collected, even naming a fighter style after his friend. Bob’s buddy Ray Randall was a frequent visitor as well. Robin recalled, “Ray was a sales representative, and he would bring us girls all kinds of shampoos and cream rinses for our hair when he came out to visit Dad.”

Japanese Swords: Can Tradition Outperform Modern Tech?

Mike Haskew

-

January 2, 2026

0

Japanese Swords: Can Tradition Outperform Modern Tech?

There is plenty of lore surrounding traditional Japanese Swords, but do the master makers’ time-tested methods equal modern steel advancements?

Editor’s note: Long-time BLADE® subscriber and knife collector Rick Royster wrote us, wondering how the swords of the ancient Japanese samurai warriors would compare to today’s modern swords. Did all the steps the ancient Asian swordsmiths used really make a difference? “Employing special quenchants, some clay, some of this and that—is it science or mystical?” Rick asked. While we couldn’t test an ancient sword vs. one of today’s, we did go to the sources themselves for answers—some of today’s top swordsmiths.

The traditional Japanese sword blade is revered for its performance, perhaps even more than its beauty and ties to an uber-rich heritage in the world of cutlery. Combined, these elements make the classic Japanese sword something unforgettable, a work of art and poetry in motion—yet capable of delivering the decisive blow in combat.

Modern custom sword blades may not possess the allure of the centuries. They may not have a hamon—though many do—or the other attributes that make their vintage counterparts so revered. Nonetheless, they can claim respect and admiration when it comes to strength. If the comparison of relative strength is relevant and worthwhile, which is stronger—the ancient Japanese or the modern custom sword blade?

World-renowned Japanese swordsmith Yoshindo Yoshihara does yakire, the fast quenching of a sword, during one of his swordmaking demonstrations. (Aram Compeau image)

BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member/ABS master smith Steve Schwarzer answers the question this way: “Modern steels are highly superior in almost every way except for visual structure. Traditional Japanese bladesmiths were all about taking inferior material, which was the best stuff on the planet at the time, and making it better. Modern steel is superior because it is a lot cleaner with alloys for specific jobs. Setting the structure up is what today’s American Bladesmith Society is all about: making steel better. It’s hard to compare the two, but modern steels are superior in edge holding and sharpness. Modern steel won’t bend like the old stuff because it is not designed to bend.

“Once you get the aesthetics out, the fancy hamons and stuff like that, ancient bladesmiths had a way to control the process in the old days from one portion of the blade to another. If you take a Japanese blade and quench and polish it, you have a big spring supporting the cutting edge, and that is why it would excel in battle.”

ABS master smith Zack Jonas sees the purpose as the primary differentiator in either case.

According to Steve Schwarzer, traditional Japanese bladesmiths took inferior material—the best stuff available at the time—and made it better. “Modern steel is superior because it is a lot cleaner with alloys for specific jobs,” he stated. He used modern steel and all the trimmings on his Japanese sword. (Eric Eggly/PointSeven sword image; image of Schwarzer by Chris Wellhausen)

“The strength of the traditional Japanese sword would have been measured in its ability to withstand the test of battle without breaking,” he began. “By this measure, they were marvels of engineering. Today’s technology is capable of producing swords with performance characteristics that vastly exceed the finest traditional blades. We have steel mills producing bespoke blade alloys from ultra-precise ratios of refined base elements.

“We have modern heat-treating methods capable of holding plus-or-minus a fraction of a degree indefinitely within a perfectly controlled atmosphere. We have modern quenching oils and molten salt pots and ovens for tempering, and we have analytical tools that allow us to refine how we approach our materials. Traditional swords were purpose-built for war, and they lived up to those demands for a thousand years and more. But modern science gives us greater capabilities on a purely quantitative level.”

The cutting of the tatami mat—done here by James Williams during one of his Japanese sword demos at a past BLADE Show—is said to be a good analogue for testing cuts against a human target.

Schwarzer agrees that modern steel is produced in quantity, while the traditional Japanese sword blade was produced singularly.

“It truly takes a master to get the most out of any steel,” he remarked, “but modern steels are more forgiving because they are designed around production, not one-offs.”

Traditional Sword Construction

Dave Goldberg has made traditional Japanese swords since the 1990s and learned from masters in their construction, as well as in the forging of damascus. He sees the functionality of the traditional Japanese blade and says, “The edge of the sword blade is about 60-70 on the Rockwell scale and you want that to be about one-third of the blade area. The middle is somewhat hard, and the back is not hard but flexible.”

According to Zack Jonas, modern smiths have access to modern materials and technology, but in many or even most cases, modern swords are not made with careful consideration for the practicalities of combat. Zack’s wakizashi features a 22-inch damascus blade with a shinogi zukuri grind. Overall length: 28 inches. (SharpByCoop sword image; image of Zack by B. R. Hughes)

According to Jonas, the hardening process was essential during ancient times. The warrior absolutely depended on it. Traditional swordsmithing techniques have been refined over the course of centuries through the familiar process of trial and error.

“Since ‘error’ would have been a matter of life and death,” Zack observed, “we can say with a degree of confidence that traditional methods worked extremely well. For example, it was essential to employ differential hardening—which traditional smiths did by applying an insulative clay to the spine—because given the properties of the steel they were working with, a fully hardened blade would have created a number of problems both for the smith and for the warrior. It can be tricky to retrospectively disentangle the mystical from the scientific. Mystical practices that offered no benefit would have been winnowed out in favor of those that did, and those that did offer benefit can be scientifically explained today.”

Years ago, Goldberg traveled to Japan to study traditional sword blades under the legendary Yoshindo Yoshihara, whose family has practiced the art for no fewer than 10 generations.

Zack Jonas said modern steels can get harder, tougher and sharper than traditional Japanese tamagahane steel, but it remains important to remember that tamagahane was strong enough for a thousand years of battles. This traditional tamahagane was made in a smelter, or tatara. (Yoshihara Yoshikazu image)

“He taught me a lot of things about sword making,” Dave remembered, “and in his smithy, he had on the wall behind where he forges a Japanese shrine with lightning bolts hanging and incense burners, and there was a little teapot in the smithy, too. He said it was just decoration, but with the Japanese guys even if you are friends, there are still secrets. So, I put paper lightning bolts in my shop too—to protect my spirit and so the blades will come out well and get through the quench.”

Bound up in tradition, the mysticism makes the Japanese way an art form that can never be completely separated from its origins. Even in a straight-up test of strength, whether one steel prevailed over the other, there would be no loser. Each would continue to hold its relative place in time and space and fact and imagination.

“In absolute quantitative terms, traditional materials mostly do not offer performance advantages over their modern counterparts,” Jonas said, echoing Schwarzer’s observation. “For example, modern steels can get harder, tougher and sharper than traditional Japanese tamagahane steel, but it is still important to remember that tamagahane was strong enough for a thousand years of battles. Likewise, performance isn’t everything. One of the signature features of tamahagane is its appearance. It has aesthetic characteristics that modern steels lack entirely.”

Japanese Sword Features

Eighty-two-year-old Yoshindo Yoshihara, author of this classic Japanese sword and saya (scabbard), is generally recognized as the greatest maker of Japanese-style swords of his generation. (Francesco Pachi images)

Among the most noteworthy features found in traditional Japanese sword blades is the hamon, which Zack describes as the literal demarcation point between the hardened edge of the blade and its softer spine. The hamon, he says, is a visible representation of the technique that must be used due to the material constraints and demands of tamahagane steel.

It is visible due to light diffusing off the mixture of hard and non-hardened crystalline structures, where the hardened edge transitions to the softer spine. He adds that over time, the production of the hamon stretched beyond the practical necessities of the steel and into the realm of aesthetics. Whether the shape of the hamon has any bearing on the blade’s performance is an open question.

“Any steel hardened and tempered to its best molecular composition is good steel,” Goldberg commented. “Modern 80CrV2 steel is harder than any Japanese steel. Japanese steel can take it in battle, and from sword to sword, it can be amazingly hard. It becomes its own shield when the warrior holds it above his head and can then come around and cut the other guy. Japanese steel is really hard, but modern technology is something else. I have never seen anything harder than the CrV stuff. Everything is purpose-driven.”

Matt Venier made what he calls Mattyhagane to recreate tamahagane for the blade of his katana. The tsuka (handle) consists of a wood core with full rayskin and braided wrap. The tsuba (guard) and habaki (collar) are copper. (SharpByCoop images)

Other attributes of the traditional Japanese sword, including the handle ornaments known as menuki, may contribute to performance as well. While some observers may see menuki as a sort of grip enhancement in functioning as a palm swell, allowing the user to index the sword better, others stress that they are primarily evidence of the maker’s desire to express his or her own identity and creativity. Menuki quite possibly can function on both levels.

Japanese Sword Folklore

Through the centuries, there have been claims that Japanese steel can perform certain tasks that modern sword steel cannot. Jonas says that many such contentions are simply folklore or myth and have been easily debunked.

“One popular example is the cutting of the tatami mat,” he related. “These straw mats, soaked in water and then rolled tightly together, are said to be a good analogue for testing cuts against a human target. It has been said that only the katana can do this well, but these days, videos can be found online showing a skilled swordsman cutting through a tatami with a blunted medieval-style longsword.

“The Japanese sword has been mythologized along with the warriors who made it famous. The samurai were incredible fighters who earned their reputation for fierce courage through feats in battle and cultural refinement. Their signature sword is a highly developed object with exceptional performance abilities, but traditional examples will not outperform their modern counterparts.”

Old & New Symbiosis

In the final analysis, the old and new steels co-exist, achieving a symbiosis, a sort of mutual respect. As Zack so aptly pointed out, the context of their comparison weighs in on the discourse.

“It is important to consider how this matter is discussed,” he noted. “Most of these topics bear on the question of superiority—what makes this sword better than that sword or vice versa—and while it is possible to give some answers in the absolute sense, there is a risk that these answers ignore important contextual factors.

“The traditional Japanese sword was designed for a particular form of combat and was designed with the constraints of the tools and materials available at the time,” he concluded. “Modern smiths have access to modern materials and technology, but in many or even most cases, modern swords are not made with careful consideration for the practicalities of combat. Modern smiths are unlikely to even be familiar with how a sword would need to behave in a fight.”

Times change, materials change, techniques and methods change. But through the ages, traditional icons endure, while new and emerging genres come to life and begin to build legacies of their own.

More On Swords:

Japanese War Swords Part
Scottish Swords: Cold Steel And CAS Iberia’s Tartan Edge
Scissor Sword: Scissor Maven Grace Horne’s Prized Collectable
Master Bladesmiths Showcase Their Best Long Swords

Utility Of The Knife Hole: Poking Into This Modern Design

Uncategorized

Mike Haskew

-

December 21, 2025

0

Utility Of The Knife Hole: Poking Into This Modern Design

From tactical rings to signature openers: analyzing the practical advantages of negative space in blade engineering.

The hole in the handle or blade, or anywhere in knife construction, has something to tell the user. But what is it trying to say or do?

It is eye-catching but the hole and/or ring and the science that goes along with it complement the visual and the practical in knife use. Aesthetics, mechanics and utility are factors. After all, the essence of the knife is in its use as a tool, and who wouldn’t mind a prettier profile at the same time?

Original Hole

The story of the hole in the blade cannot be told without including Spyderco and its legendary leader, BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Sal Glesser. In the decades since Spyderco introduced its iconic hole in the blade, the company has produced countless folders that characterize the ease of opening inherent in the hole itself.

The story of the hole in the blade cannot be told without Spyderco and its legendary leader, Sal Glesser. The BLADE Magazine 1990 Overall Knife of the Year®, the blade-hole-opening Endura is one of the company’s longest-running models.

Sal said he well remembers the inspiration to step out with his company’s blades.

“The Buck 110 and Gerber Folding Hunter were the watershed change to locking knives, in my opinion,” he recalled. “I purchased a Buck 110 when they first came out. As a young man I learned to open the Buck and Gerber lockers with one hand using my thumb, pushing on the side of the blade. I was working late in the shop one night, payables, payroll, etc., and I thought to try to figure out a way to modify a folding knife so that anyone could learn to open [it] with one hand more easily and more safely than the way I was doing it.”

From that single thought, Glesser went to work. He experimented with adding to the blade for leverage—studs, discs, hoods and other things—but found they got in the way when cutting or sharpening and could “wave” the knife open unintentionally when deploying.

“So I started taking things away from the blade to create purchase for the thumb,” Sal continued. “I first roughed up the side of the blade, which worked, but not very well. Then I drilled a dent into the blade. A dent on both sides became a hole.”

Eureka!

Sal plowed ahead, making a rough prototype using a Japanese folder and welding a piece of drilling rod to the spine of the blade to add height. He ground it down to the thickness of the blade and then drilled the hole to test his ease-of-opening theory.

“We applied for a patent claiming a ‘ledge’ created by the edge of the hole that could be used by the fleshy part of the thumb to urge the blade open with one hand,” Sal recalled. “I chose to use a round hole because it was easier to make and was easily identifiable.”

The rest, as they say, is history.

From the first blade-hole model in 1981, the Spyderco Worker, the distance from the center of the pivot to the hole was analyzed while the optimal size of the hole for the average thumb was measured. Enhanced trademark work was successful in securing the round shape since copies were notable with different shapes to get around the word “hole” in the original Spyderco patent language. Hence, the company introduced the hole into its fixed blades as an identifier “large enough to be cleaned and small enough to be noticed.”

Perfecting the hole for its primary purpose of easy opening meant leaving a certain amount of steel above the hole to compensate for the space. “Some steels that are more brittle could be broken through the hole if pried with hard enough,” Sal concluded. “But the truth be told, there are millions of Spyderco knives in the marketplace over the past almost 50 years and there have been very few that were broken.”

Where & Why Of Holes

Toor Knives CEO Connor Toor says the hole/ring of the Cortano is between the handle and blade for several reasons, including deployment and retention, a tactile index for consistent hand placement, a lanyard attachment point, and an unmistakable visual signature. Another is the ability to choke up for precise cuts without losing control.

In overall perspective, the hole has its place in the fixed blade as well. The Toor Corporation Cortano sports the hole/ring for a simple reason according to CEO Connor Toor.

“A hole allows fast, ambidextrous one-handed deployment without extra hardware,” he explained, “and it keeps the blade profile clean and snag resistant. It also slightly reduces weight and manufacturing complexity compared with an added stud or thumb disc.”

The hole in the Cortano is located between handle and blade for several reasons, including deployment and retention, a tactile index for consistent hand placement, a lanyard attachment point, and an unmistakable visual signature that differentiates the knife. An added bonus, says Connor, is the ability of the user to choke up for precise cuts without losing positive control.

“We typically call it an ‘index/retention ring’ or simply the ‘deployment hole,’” Toor commented. “The concept is rooted in historic ring knife forms and modern karambit/utility designs more broadly, so while makers like Steve Likarich are part of that lineage, our design pulls from both traditional ring knives and contemporary tactical needs rather than a single source.

“Any aperture introduces stress concentration,” Connor continued, “but proper blade geometry, material selection and heat treatment mitigate that risk. We designed the Cortano so overall material thickness preserves strength around the hole. Real world testing and appropriate use show no practical durability issues when those engineering details are respected.”

Holes For Balance

The Formido fixed blade from Spartan Blades comes with a series of grip holes, that, explains company president Curtis Iovito (inset), “primarily tune balance by reducing handle weight.”

The Formido fixed blade from Spartan Blades comes with a series of holes in the handle, and company president Curtis Iovito readily points to the advantages of the design.

“It’s primarily to tune balance by reducing handle weight,” he advised, “often to place the balance over the index finger. We’ll enlarge or shrink hidden holes under the scales to shift weight where it best serves the knife’s purpose. Looks can be a secondary benefit. Along with weight reduction, there are options for lashing or paracord wraps, and added indexing/traction without introducing weak corners. In some cases, they also enable spear mounting or other field attachments.”

Curtis adds that the parameters for the introduction of holes in the blade or body of the knife vary as to the designer’s objectives.

“There is no universal formula,” he related. Holes, however, must measure up to certain standards to “maintain strong ‘webs’ of material around fasteners and stress points, and scales must be clamped well to prevent lifting and contamination. Round holes are favored because they machine easily and avoid sharp internal corners that become stress risers during heat treat. Arched/rounded cutouts can add torsional strength as seen on our Enyo and Formido.”

Holes In Karambit

Designed by Joshua Swanagon, the TOPS Knives C.U.T. 4.0 is a hybrid karambit that combines the practicality of a utility knife with the defensive and combat features of a standard karambit. Its ringed handle is common to the pattern’s lineage while the utility drop-point blade is more of a traditional design element.

At TOPS Knives, the C.U.T. 4.0 is a hybrid karambit that combines the practicality of the utility knife with the defensive and combat features of the karambit. Its ringed handle is common to the karambit lineage while the utility drop-point blade is more of a traditional design element. The karambit hole itself is probably a derivative of agricultural use.

“It does seem to be the case that many karambits used in Asia were used as a tool first, cutting cane or other crops” said Craig Powell, TOPS general manager. “As a tool, the pinky is usually in the hole so that the knife can hang down from the hand while the user is picking up the harvest, and then it is swung back into the hand to use the cutting edge.

“I wouldn’t say there is a set rule on the size of the hole,” he added, “but too small makes it easy for fingers to get stuck, which can equal broken fingers or de-gloved fingers in situations where the knife can’t be dropped when needed. Too large makes the knife clunky to use and manipulate properly and too easy to drop. Definitely, there is a balance to be struck. The hole size we use for our karambits does vary somewhat with the overall size of the knife. Typically, the smaller the overall size, the less likely someone is going to use the knife while wearing gloves, so you can use a smaller hole to keep the overall profile of the knife smaller.”

The characteristic ring in the butt of the karambit adds versatility, and Iovito sees advantages in several areas.

“The ring allows rapid grip changes, secure retention of a short blade under stress, and manipulation without dropping the tool. On our CQB Tool, for example, the ring lets a user transition to a pistol grip in a pinch without discarding the blade. We use PEO Soldier [U.S. Army Program Executive Office] data on the average-gloved-finger size for reliable use with gloves. Our research points to about a 1 1/8-inch internal diameter as optimal—big enough for manipulation and glove use without binding, yet not so large that control gets sloppy or the blade flops on the finger. Too small risks pinching, circulation issues, and snagging; too large compromises indexing and retention.”

Michael Janich, special projects coordinator at Spyderco, agrees that the karambit has an agricultural lineage but adds that the island archipelagos of the Pacific, where the design developed, will often provide different cultural backgrounds to its story.

“After harvesting a bundle of vegetables, the handle was released, allowing the knife to hang from the pinky, freeing both hands to tie the bundle,” Janich reasoned. “In contrast, sheathing the knife every time was inefficient and would require the blade to be cleaned to prevent soiling the inside of the sheath. Logically and practically, this makes sense. Some stories of the origin of the karambit, though, suggest that it was developed primarily as a weapon.”

Arched/rounded handle cutouts can add torsional strength as seen on the Enyo by Spartan Blades.

As for the dimensions of the karambit and its characteristic hole, Janich points out that some tools defined as karambits of Southeast Asian origin do not even sport the hole. Nonetheless, the hole defines the karambit today.

“The karambit is not the only historical knife to have a ring,” Michael added. “The Japanese kunai was a trowel-like tool that had a ring at the end of the handle. The ring could be used to enhance grip retention. It also allowed the tool to be hung from a cord for easy transport or for the attachment of a lanyard. The Chinese martial arts also had daggers with butt-mounted rings. In some systems of kung fu, the rings had no specific purpose and only served as pommels. The bird and trout knife, first introduced by Marble’s, also had a pommel ring. Of integral construction, the handle portion of the knife was very narrow, so the ring provided both retention and grip stability.”

Attraction Of The Design

Universally in the world of knives, the hole or ring has its place, its moment, its degree of usefulness. Ultimately, the user chooses the tool that suits the task at hand, and the presence of the hole, for easy opening, control or enhanced utility, is always a candidate for deployment.

More Knife Reviews:

Sharps Bros. Meanstreak Review: Keen, Mean Cutting Machine
Relentless Knives Curved Fillet Knife Review
Cold Steel Finn Bear Review: Light, Sharp And Up To Snuff
Spartan Blades Clandestina Review: 2024 Blade Knife of the Year

Wa Handle: Japanese Ergonomics Are Revolutionizing Custom Kitchen Knives

Mike Haskew

-

October 28, 2025

0

Wa Handle: Japanese Ergonomics Are Revolutionizing Custom Kitchen Knives

User-friendly custom takes on the classic Japanese knife handle abound.

The Japanese influence in kitchen knives is more or less a given. Those who work in food preparation, an art form unto itself, appreciate the style and utilitarian feel that the Japanese culture exerts on their vocation.

The kitchen knife has seen a wave of custom makers taking that context a step further. The knife is an extension of the hand and that extension starts with the handle. So, here again the ergonomics of Japanese influence emerge. The wa handle brings comfort and confidence to the kitchen user while also providing a sense of form, function and artistic expression for the custom maker.

The wa handle of Aidan Garrity’s santoku has largely parallel sides to the width of the ricasso with a small ‘beak’ at the bottom for hand retention and aesthetics. Blade steel: mosaic damascus. Vintage butterscotch Micarta® scales boast flat-shield cross-sections and G-10 spacers. Overall length: 14 inches. His list price for a similar knife: $2,300. Its sister piece is a Garrity nakiri that was featured on the March 2024 BLADE® cover. (SharpByCoop image)

According to maker Jacob Anstaett, the name itself is rooted in the Japanese language.

“Wa comes from the Japanese language and broadly translates as ‘harmony’ or ‘balance,’” he explained. “In knifemaking, it refers to the traditional Japanese handle style, which emphasizes simplicity, lightness and an ergonomic connection between the handle and the blade.”

Anstaett further defines the wa handle as “lightweight with forward-balanced design. Typically, it is either octagonal, oval or D-shaped in cross-section. The handle is crafted as a separate piece that fits onto a hidden tang rather than a full tang. The construction is what gives the blade its distinct balance, where the cutting edge feels alive in your hand instead of weighed down.”

A resident of Plano, Texas and a custom knifemaker for eight years, Jacob says his wa handle is an interpretation of the Japanese style.

Alex Töpfer described his wa-handled piece as “a general-purpose kitchen knife based on various santoku. The blade is 80CrV2 as it’s a good general steel I can forge and heat treat. The handle is Tasmanian blackwood to add some fanciness, and the same is true for the bronze bolster. It’s functional art you can appreciate as you use it to cook.” His price for a similar knife: $325. (Rod Hoare image)

“It’s best described as a variation of the traditional wa,” he explained. “I keep the core geometry usually as an octagon cross-section, but I adapt the dimensions slightly for comfort. Western chefs often prefer a little more thickness and resilience, so I adjust proportions while preserving the forward balance that makes wa handles so effective.”

Jacob devoted extensive time to the study of traditional Japanese wa handles and then embarked on his road to interpretation.

“Over time I developed my own hybrid approach,” he commented. “My reasoning was simple: I wanted to honor tradition while building something that stands up to modern kitchens. For instance, I blend traditional shapes with stabilized woods or composites, ensuring they can handle daily use in a busy Western kitchen without losing the essence of the Japanese design.”

What Makes A Wa Handle?

Elaborating on the spirit and style of the wa, Aidan Garrity of Iron Lion Blades in Madison, Connecticut remarked, “There are two schools of thought for what exactly categorizes as a wa handle. One is that the handle’s construction involves a hole the width of the knife’s tang being drilled into the handle, and the tang being enclosed in a slotted dowel to tightly fit into that round cavity. The other is that it is simply the style of the handle, usually slimline and often having angular geometries. For questions like these, I always answer with the understanding that it is just the style of the handle, but I personally consider the true wa handle to be one utilizing the dowel bedding construction.”

The wa handle of Mert Tansu’s gyuto has a half-inch-wide, 4-inch dowel (above) with a tang slot cut into it. “It is a traditional-shaped wa except for the internal structure,” Mert wrote. “While most Japanese blades are mounted to the handle with burning the tangs in, this is not possible with a hard timber-like ringed gidgee, and I glued mine in.”

Australian custom knifemaker Mert Tansu follows the wa tradition with his own interpretation. His perspective includes a geometric aspect that broadens the possibilities with the style.

“Wa handles come in a few different geometries,” he related, “from round to oval, to semi-octagonal to full octagonal and D-shape. Compared to their Western counterparts they are not sculpted and flat. Most of the traditional wa handles will have a horn ferrule and magnolia wood body.”

Mert’s featured knife is a gyuto from his Hunter Valley Blades series of traditional Japanese chef’s knives with forged finishes and usually san-mai construction. He employed a dowel-bedding construction for the wa handle (page 16). He characterizes his chef’s knives as affordable and less time consuming to make than other custom types.

Specific features of the wa handle style translate into precision and control in the kitchen. He says that the flats allow the user to index the knife with ease. Despite the “stop sign” shape, the octagonal handle is quite comfortable and fashioned with precision on his disc grinder. Optimal length is a subjective question, but Mert likes paring knives with wa handles no longer than 4.7 inches, while handles of 5.3 to 5.5 inches work best in larger chef’s knives with overall lengths of 9.5 inches. For long slicing knives of overall lengths of 10.5 inches, he indicated he prefers a handle between 5.7 and 5.9 inches.

Wa Handle Interpretations

A custom knifemaker for seven years at his home near Melbourne, Australia, Alex Töpfer appreciates the employment of the hidden tang in his knife construction, and he says the wa-inspired handle works in both the active and aesthetic aspects of kitchen use.

“Obviously, I’m inspired by various styles of wa handles, specifically octagonal ones,” he commented, “and also the use of brass bolsters and guards in the Western context. The flats here are more to provide context with the organic, curved aspects of the wood grain and forged texture.

“I do think it’s important to have a flat [handle] surface that aligns with the blade, but the upper parts are more for looks. There is also the question of what an individual user likes. Personally, I prefer to use oval hidden-tang handles, but I do the occasional faceted one for practice and a change. I’ve only had problems when the tang is not long enough. So, I tend to go 2.75 to 3.15 inches of tang. That will support the handle during use. I have had issues with burl where the grain didn’t provide any strength, but a longer tang on that knife would have avoided the problem. Also, fancier materials might be easier to sell even if they’re not ideal. I like recycled ironbark but it doesn’t have that bling factor.”

The traditional handle of Dew Hara’s suigetsu has stabilized burl scales and a copper bolster. The 7-inch blade is tamahagane steel with a hamaguri grind. Overall length: 12.4 inches. (SharpByCoop image)

Garrity demonstrates his skill with the wa in his mosaic damascus santoku blade that combines 1095 and 52100 carbon and 15N20 nickel-alloy steels. He used the Ferry Flip method* and then placed the multi-bar construction to be framed by a monosteel edge and spine bars. Aidan’s santoku has a sister blade, a nakiri featured on the cover of the March 2024 BLADE® (page 13). He made the nakiri with the same bar of mosaic damascus as his santoku.

“This handle is of my own design. It has largely parallel sides to the width of the ricasso with a small ‘beak’ at the bottom for hand retention, as well as aesthetics. It wasn’t based on any particular style,” he noted, “but it does categorize as a shield-shaped wa handle. The flats lend themselves to helping the user maintain proper edge alignment while cutting, as an overly round grip doesn’t offer much [user feedback]. In addition, the flats are somewhat easier to bring to a high finish.”

In constructing a wa handle, Aidan leans heavily on the length of the blade.

“Typically, 4½ to 5½ inches is seen as a natural range to balance average length and weighted blades,” he remarked. “Thicker and wider blades like nakiri and bunka will often be more forward weighted compared to the more generalist shapes like santoku. The handle is often too slim with poor retention for any large chopping blades or fighters. It’s best to stick to kitchen knives for this type of handle design.”

Eric Hemker uses synthetic tortoise shell for the wa handle of his chef’s knife. The flat-ground 7.785-inch blade is a damascus of 1084 carbon and 15N20 nickel-alloy steels. The spacers are green, black and white G-10. Overall length: 14 inches. (SharpByCoop image)

The where, why and how of the wa are revealed in various interpretations, put to work with enthusiasm in the kitchen, and exhibit style and beauty whether in the midst of meal preparation or displayed for all to see. Their aesthetic is timeless, but so is their capacity to make the work of the chef an adventure in creativity.

*Editor’s Note: Named in honor of its creator, award-winning bladesmith Tom Ferry, the Ferry Flip is a variation on the canned steel technique. It basically consists of cutting slices at a 35-degree angle off the end of a damascus billet. The resulting tiles are rotated and forge welded together to form a new billet. As a result, instead of the pattern showing on the end of the new billet, the pattern repeats itself along the new billet’s face.

More Kitchen Knives:

Best Tomato Knives: Top Picks For This Delicate Job
Affordable Chef’s Knives: Options That Are A Cut Above The Rest
Best Gyuto Knife: East And West Meet Over Dinner
Best Cleavers: Hot Choppers

Bloodlines: Emerson Knives Is A Family Affair

Mike Haskew

-

September 25, 2025

0

Bloodlines: Emerson Knives Is A Family Affair

The Emerson Family shares decades and generations in knives.

Through the years, the name Emerson Knives has come to represent outstanding craftsmanship, quality and overall excellence in the knife industry. And each member of the Emerson family has contributed in his and her own way.

“They grew up in the shop, both Megan and Rachael while my shop was at home, and Lucas was born after we opened our production factory,” Ernest Emerson remembered. “So we fenced off a corner in Mary’s office for him as a baby and a toddler. They have all worked in the company since the beginning, and today Mary is the overall manager, Megan is director of marketing, Rachael is operations director, and Lucas is engineering and is being groomed to run the shop. Me, I’m the government mule.”

For some it would be enough to say with pride that the family has built the Emerson Knives brand together, each contributing in his or her own way. But the Emersons have taken their commitment to excellence and the already incredible story of their enterprise to a new level. Each one of them has completed an Emerson original, a knife of their own from concept to finish, and Ernest has had the pleasure of watching the extraordinary conclusion of this labor of love and pure knifemaking joy.

“I didn’t know any of them would ever want to make a knife,” he confessed, “and with their personal lives being so busy outside of work I didn’t know if they would ever have time to do something else. Megan is busy raising a family and runs a working ranch in Colorado. Rachael is busy with Jiu Jitsu and finishing up her second degree in nutritional therapy. Lucas is hardcore into training and computer programming, and Mary runs our business, which by itself is a 24/7 job, and still manages to cook dinner, keep our house in order, and even fits in a round of golf when she can.”

(From left) Megan, Mary, Ernest and Lucas hold their knives at BLADE Show 2025. Megan, Mary, Lucas and Rachael all had their knives debut at the show. Rachael was unable to attend due to a special family event. (BLADE® image)

Still, with everything else that demands their most precious commodity—time—the Emersons have expressed themselves in the actual completion of the tool that has been the centerpiece of their lives as long as they can remember. It almost feels like destiny, like it had to happen. And despite the headwinds, it has.

Earliest Memories

Twenty-four now, Lucas started making knives officially in January 2023, though he has watched and learned since his earliest memories.

“I have always had a passion for making things, and with my dad as a mentor knifemaking has become second nature to me. For me, making knives was never a question of ‘why?’ but of ‘why not?’”

At BLADE Show 2025, Lucas chose to debut his newly designed MX-400 model. He wanted to produce a compact knife ideal for everyday carry.

“The MX-400 I had on display at the BLADE Show with pearl-handle scales will go into my personal collection,” he said. “I did bring three other MX-400s to the show, which I sold via lottery.”

Lucas makes knives part time and devotes plenty of energy first to the production company, Emerson Knives, Inc. At some point in the future, he may turn to knifemaking full time, but for now he manages the best of both endeavors. The most difficult part of the knifemaking process, he says, is grinding the blades.

Lucas Emerson debuted his MX-400, “a compact knife that is ideal for everyday carry,” at BLADE Show 2025. He put the one in mother-of-pearl scales he displayed at the show in his personal collection.

“This is the quickest way to make mistakes,” he advised, “and it tends to be quite time consuming. Luckily, I’m pretty consistent and at this point I’ve got nothing to do but improve. On the other hand, the easiest part of my knifemaking is the hand finishing. This is where I take my time making sure everything is clean, even and symmetrical. I would consider it foundational for the knives I intend to create.”

For his next knife, Lucas intends to design a fixed blade for his own everyday carry. “I want something that I can carry with me at all times,” he noted, “and which I can rely on for any situation that may arise. It will need to be versatile, easy to maintain and easy to conceal on my person.”

Stay tuned!

Iron Lotus

Rachael Emerson Hardin has been making knives for about 20 years now, much of her experience being directly engaged in the business.

“I started assembling knives when I was in high school,” she remembered. “I would leave school after lunch my junior and senior year, drive to work, and assemble until they turned the lights off. I’m still here making knives years later, so I guess you could say I enjoy it.”

For years, the idea of designing and finishing her own knife had been in the back of Rachael’s mind.

“I always had favorite designs of my dad’s and thought how cool it would be to make something like that but with my own flair,” she reflected. “It wasn’t until recently when Lucas began coming up with his own designs that it dawned on me—maybe I can try this too! I’ve been around this my whole life. I know what works and what doesn’t. It couldn’t hurt to try.”

Rachael took the knifemaking plunge with her own design that she calls Iron Lotus, and she is enthusiastic about more knives to come. To date, there are two prototypes. It is her first design, and the plan is for her to keep one and possibly sell the other.

So Rachael took the plunge with her own design that she calls Iron Lotus, and she is enthusiastic about more knives to come.

“It’s hard to say that this is my favorite yet,” she related. “My favorite knives aren’t because of the way they look on paper generally. It comes after the production process. Behind the scenes I experience all the hiccups and fallbacks firsthand. Some knives go together like peanut butter and jelly. Others need tweaking.”

As for her own creations, the 37-year-old Rachael is optimistic about the future.

“Heck yeah, I’m going to make more knives. I live, eat and breathe knives. It’s in my blood. Eventually, the Emerson kids will take over the business. Making knives is fun. There is something very freeing about it. And I have the best teacher in the world.”

To date, there are two prototypes of Rachael’s Iron Lotus. It is her first design, and the plan is to keep one of them and possibly sell the other.

“I’m not sure about carrying it because it is a little fancy,” she observed. “I have a few ideas that I’ve been brainstorming. Currently I’ve been diving deep into Japanese-style blades. I’m a big fan of the Japanese tanto. I love simple designs too, like the gentleman’s folder.”

Paying Tribute

With her completed knife, Megan Emerson Gomez, 41, fulfilled an ambition that had lingered for many years. She has also been captivated by Japanese-style blades and used that energy in her own creation.

“I have always been a big fan of the traditional tanto,” she commented, “so I thought I would design something with that look. My design is called the Shinobi or M-Shinobi [Ninja]. This was the first knife I have entirely designed, but I have been involved and making design suggestions for many years. The CQC-17 model blade design was my idea, and I am sure you can see the similarities in my latest design.”

Megan parlayed her long-time admiration for tantos into the Shinobi/M-Shinobi. Though she has been involved in making design suggestions for many years, it is the first knife she designed entirely by herself. As she noted, “The CQC-17 model blade design was my idea, and I am sure you can see the similarities in [the Shinobi].”

Megan was positive about the outcome of her completed project from the moment it began, and she looks back at the experience with quiet confidence.

“I never once doubted that I could finish it, but there was a moment where I had to decide if I was willing to push forward with a design that really didn’t look like a typical ‘Emerson.’”

Staying the course, she produced an exceptional piece and recalls that the most challenging aspect of the experience was paying tribute to history.

“The most difficult part was respecting the traditional tanto shape while still making it feel like mine. The style carries serious weight. It’s steeped in warrior culture, precision and intention. I wanted to channel that strength into something functional, modern and personal. Getting the balance right between tradition, aggression and clean design took the most time and thought. The easiest part then was handing it over to my dad. Once the design was dialed in, I knew exactly who should bring it to life.”

Mom’s Time

Each of the Emerson children accomplished an ambitious task that required a step up in devotion to the art and craft, the imagination and precision, that come together in a completed knife. Then, of course, Mom tried her hand as well, and the effort produced a beauty.

“I just started making knives about a year ago,” Mary remarked. “I have been around knives and knifemaking for years and years, so I kind of had a head start on things. I wanted to make a knife for a long time but it was hard to find the time. I’ve had lots of ideas and designs just sitting on the backburner for quite a few years.”

From left at right are Megan, Rachael, Mary with Lucas asleep in the baby carrier and Ernest. Among those in the front of the table at left are knife purveyors Bob and Linda Neal, Karen and Jay Sadow and BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Dan Delavan.

At long last, Mary’s time did come.

“I really have liked our CQC-15 and the Persian-esque blade styles, and I liked our Specwar handle,” she noted. “I like the curved and recurved blades, so my two designs, the Denali and the Falcon, reflect my likes in blade designs.

“Grinding the blade was the hardest part. It’s the dirtiest and most gritty part of the process. Getting one side ground the way I wanted it still left the other side to match up. The easiest part was the design. That was an easy day for me.”

During one grinding session, Mary toyed with the idea of halting the project—but only for a moment. “Ernie kept coming in and checking my grind lines. I told him to get out,” she smiled, “and I locked the grinding room door!”

Mary’s next knife adventure, though she will probably never be full time due to all her commitments to the business, is a fixed blade that is small enough to wear on her belt while riding her horse.

Next Mission

Along with Ernest, Mary looks at the body of work that surrounds the family, the business enterprise with so many facets and opportunities, the work of a lifetime, and the possibilities of the future. And yes, there is something else.

“Additionally,” she stated, “I’m very proud that my children are so interested in carrying on the family legacy. My next mission is to get the grandkids interested and involved. I’m very much looking forward to that.”

Mary’s partiality to curved and recurved blades is reflected in her two designs, the Denali and the Falcon, the latter here in two handle iterations. “Grinding the blade was the hardest part,” she noted. “Getting one side ground the way I wanted it still left the other side to match up.” During one grinding session, she considered halting the project—but only for a moment. “Ernie kept coming in and checking my grind lines. I told him to get out,” she smiled, “and I locked the grinding room door!”

Meanwhile, Ernie surveys the current scene with satisfaction and gratitude. He wanted to be surrounded by a family of knifemakers and that has actually come to pass. His quiet observation has made the situation even more satisfying.

“I never expected any of them to make knives, but deep down of course I wanted them to,” he reflected. “In any endeavor you undertake, if your heart is not in it you will never have the same enthusiasm and drive than when you are doing something you love and want to do. It is very satisfying because I never pushed any of them to pursue the craft. All of them chose to do it of their own accord, and that makes it even better.”

Just to put the experience in perspective, Megan, Rachael and Lucas validate their father’s approach. They confirm that he encouraged, advised and taught but never forced a single grind, pin or hand finish on them.

“I wanted to design a knife for as long as I can remember,” Megan said, “and I think my whole life he has been training me to make knives and run the business. I have been involved in the business since I was a little girl. I watched him grinding knives in our garage, and the ladies we hired assembled knives in our living room.”

Rachael offered, “My dad has always provided feedback to me over the years. His father and sister, my grandpa and aunt, were both teachers. So, it’s always been something he has done.”

Lucas was a hands-on learner.

“From a young age, I remember my dad allowing me to help him with his own custom knives,” he recalled. “This is where I spent most of my time learning, not only the craft but also the principles behind Emerson designs. I work on my own now, but if I ever have any questions my dad is there to provide the best answers he can. He is an excellent teacher in this regard and has always been my go-to person for advice.”

In a most rewarding way, the knife life of the Emerson family has come full circle. The generations have discovered and honored that common thread, one that binds them together like nothing else.

More On Knife Business:

How To: Custom Knife Sales And Marketing
Knife Steel After Crucible Industries LLC
Tariffs & Knife Prices In 2025
Collaboration Knives: How Do They Come Together?
How To: Marketing Knives On Social Media

Knife Warranty Claims: The Good, Bad And Ugly

Mike Haskew

-

September 22, 2025

1

Knife Warranty Claims: The Good, Bad And Ugly

Some knife warranty claims stretch the limits, while others are just plain bizarre.

It’s an honorable option, a sensible aspect of a purchase contract, but can be the source of confusion, head scratching and plain ridiculousness.

The warranty is the buyer’s insurance policy. It’s the seller’s willingness to stake a reputation for quality on the performance of the product—in this case, a knife—or at least that’s what it’s meant to be. However, there are times when real life strains what is actually believable. So, when we explore the nature of the warranty with some of the finest knife companies in the world, a few of their warranty claims simply flirt with the edge of reason.

Wacky warranty claims, contentions from supposedly “dissatisfied” customers, are out there. Frankly, when some of these are brought to light, they are simply unbelievable. Give a nod to customer creativity, but then get real and consider what happens to a solid performing knife that is not simply put to good use, hard work and tough labor. Beating a knife with a hammer, soaking the handle and blade in corrosive liquid for an extended period, or shooting the defenseless edged tool with a gun are all beyond the pale. Follow such escapades with a dose of sheer audacity and what you get are warranty claims that would make a rational individual shake his or her head.

After an Army Special Forces soldier used his Chris Reeve Yarborough to cut a live electric cable during a mission, he sent in the damaged knife with $50 asking for repairs. The company sent the $50 back along with a new knife. Anne Reeve keeps the original knife, shown here, in her safe deposit box.

“A customer put a MagnaCut blade in a glass of saltwater for seven hours and claimed the rusting and pitting should be covered by our warranty!” recalled Anne Reeve of Chris Reeve Knives. “Another requested we replace the packaging of the parts he ordered because they smelled too strongly of perfume or lotion. A customer sent a knife in for a re-blade, and the original blade had an arrow and a smiley face welded onto it.”

Really? Try a few more from Chris Reeve Knives. A customer complained that the phosphor bronze washers of his Sebenza had stains on them and simply would not accept that it was normal patina. He also complained that the knife was not sharp and he had to sharpen it himself. He ground half the blade away and then said he should get a completely new knife. A customer shot his knife with a 9mm pistol and then sent the company a photo of the broken knife while requesting a new one under the standard warranty.

At Chris Reeve Knives, reputation is everything, and the company stands by its knives. But let’s sanity check. Warranties are not “get out of jail free cards” for new knives.

“We try to keep consistency in our warranty, but we do sometimes vary on case-by-case situations,” Anne explained. “Over the years we have tightened things up a bit because often we felt we would give an inch and the customer would take a mile.”

“Normal blade finish wear is not covered under warranty,” Daniel Winkler observed. “Working knives should look used.” The Winkler Hunter Axe LT shows some normal finish wear here. (Covert image)

Still, going out of their way to accommodate, the folks at Chris Reeve Knives have had some remarkable experiences.

“Mostly the customers who push back are simply rude,” Anne related. “Some just hang up or threaten to sell their knife. A customer informed us once that they had cut very acidic fruit multiple times and refused to clean the knife afterwards. They were furious we would not warranty their now rusted blade. Another customer took his brand new Umnumzaan and stabbed in into a tree. He then pried it 90 degrees to ‘tip test’ it. The tip snapped, and he claimed we should warranty the blade because what he did should not be considered misuse or abuse.”

Among unusual requests that Chris Reeve Knives went beyond the call of duty, or warranty, to make right, Anne has great memories. When a customer sent a 5.5-inch Green Beret in for recoating and it was lost in return shipping, the company made a custom iteration of the discontinued 5.5-inch knife from a 7-inch Green Beret blade blank. A sheath was available from the company archives and both were sent to the customer. When Reeve knives were abused by U.S. Customs officials, the company removed the scratches caused by bouncing around loose in transit, making the owner happy even though there was no warranty obligation. After an Army Special Forces soldier used his Yarborough to cut a live electric cable during a mission, he sent in the damaged knife with $50 asking for repairs. The company sent the $50 back along with a new knife.

Anne Reeve said a customer put the MagnaCut stainless steel blade of a Chris Reeve knife in a glass of saltwater for seven hours and claimed the rusting and pitting should be covered by the company’s warranty. Of course, like all stainless steels, MagnaCut stains less but is not stain proof. Quite understandably, the warranty request was denied.

“That original knife lives in my safe deposit box now,” Anne smiled. “On a few occasions we have older knives returned for sharpening and we can tell that the knife has been lovingly sharpened so many times that the blade is worn out. We have replaced the blades. When we made the One Piece Range, the paperwork specifically said that it was not a throwing knife and breakage from throwing would not be covered by warranty. A couple of times we had knives returned that were broken in two. The dings made it quite obvious that the knife had been thrown. Back then, we would replace the knife and give the customer a verbal slap on the wrist.”

Though Reeve, like other companies, has found it necessary to scrutinize warranty requests more closely in recent years, the dedicated effort to make the customer happy remains strong. At Chris Reeve Knives, the warranty is, as Anne puts it, “phenomenal.”

Judgment Calls

When did the rules change? Where does the line between normal expectation and radical knife recklessness blur?

A closeup of the blade and edge damage the Chris Reeve Knives Yarborough incurred after being used by the SF operative to cut a live electric cable is a tribute to the toughness of the company’s knives.

“We’ve had a few forgeries sent to us for repairs,” commented BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Daniel Winkler of Winkler Knives. “Reactions from customers can get hot when they learn they have been duped. Not many warranty requests are really ‘crazy’; normal sharpening or sometimes fixing a damaged tip. People also request a re-finish for worn blades. If a knife fails for any reason we will either fix it or replace it, and normal blade finish wear is not covered under warranty. Working knives should look used.”

Winkler is sensitive to certain situations and sees extraordinary conditions for what they are.

“On a few occasions we have sent replacement knives without receiving damaged ones back,” he remarked. “One was a military user that used his knife to destroy a communications location in a war zone. He fried the power supply, and it fused the knife in the connection. Another was a hiker who saved his dog in a rockslide. His knife fell to the bottom of a gorge, so we replaced it, too. A third was used in a home situation where a man used his Winkler knife to stab an intruder to save his family. His knife was held as evidence, so we sent him a new one.”

A tornado destroyed a home and carried away a safe full of knives, including several TOPS Knives models. Two to three years later, the safe was found. The knives were intact and basically undamaged. When TOPS was contacted for help with slight rust on the blade and engraving, the company obliged at no cost.

There lies the real judgment call in rendering the warranty verdict. Does the customer’s story pass the simple test of reasonableness? If so, most companies might feel a pang of compassion and try to resolve the request in the interest of good customer relations. Still, it’s a tough challenge sometimes. As much as a customer might feel slighted if a warranty request is dishonored, the maker might well feel used when the circumstances are not plausible or strain the normal standards that most people would accept.

“We go out of our way to promote positive customer relations,” Daniel added. “We have replaced or refunded knives and axes that we probably shouldn’t have due to how they were damaged in abuse, like prying or throwing. We will normally take the hit, but if it happens again we do not honor any warranty.”

Case-By-Case Decisions

At TOPS Knives, warranty requests are evaluated with the best outcome in mind. “Our philosophy on our warranty is that we have some things that will void a warranty or won’t be covered under warranty, but we still handle them all on a case-by-case basis,” remarked general manager Craig Powell. “The people that are honest and level with us are way more likely to get their issue handled under warranty—even if it shouldn’t be—than people that are rude or clearly lying to us.

“I always find it funny when someone says something happened to their knife and then the actual damage to the knife in no way matches their description,” Powell continued. “Like, maybe they think we don’t actually use or test our own gear and so we don’t know what would cause certain things to happen. But really, in the end very few people that contact us with an issue treat us poorly. So the vast majority get help under warranty.”

Back to the TOPS Tom Brown Tracker that was lost in the Iraqi IED incident: the local who originally found it after the explosion used it to split wood. The saw teeth had basically been mushroomed out of existence from the local beating on the knife with a piece of metal. Considering how the U.S. serviceman originally lost the knife, TOPS fulfilled the warranty.

Powell remembers certain circumstances that were somewhat unusual prior to a warranty request.

“When I had only been working here for a year or two, I took a call from a guy that was concerned about an issue with his Silent Hero. I talked to him for probably 15 minutes trying to figure out what was wrong. He kept saying that the knife was getting deformed and all he was doing was [batonning the blade spine to make] firewood. It probably took me longer than it should have, but I finally thought to ask what he was using as a baton. Turns out he was using the hammer side of a hatchet as his baton. So, a thick piece of metal is what he was using rather than a stick. I chuckled to myself and then we talked through the process of having a hatchet in your hand and choosing to use a knife to process firewood rather than the hatchet. He said ‘Oh!’ Then he basically apologized and said he understood. We didn’t end up fixing that knife for him, but that was because he realized what he had done and probably kept it as a reminder or trophy.”

On another occasion, a tornado destroyed a home and carried away a safe full of knives, including TOPS models. Some two to three years later, the safe was found. The knives were intact and basically undamaged. When TOPS was contacted for help with slight rust on the blade and engraving, the company obliged at no cost. Hikers have been known to lose TOPS knives on the trail and then miraculously find them months later. When the owner of one of these calls for warranty assistance, the TOPS folks fix the knives up, cleaning and refurbishing before sending them back in the context of a lesson learned: hold onto your valuables while out in the woods, especially your knife.

Extreme Situations

Military experiences have brought up several warranty requests, and these are sometimes caused by extreme situations. A Tom Brown Tracker was lost during the horrific explosion of an IED (improvised explosive device) in Iraq. The soldier involved was a chaplain, who returned some time later to the village where the explosion occurred. An old lady came forward with his knife after an interpreter and a $20 bill did some talking. The knife had been used in splitting wood.

“It was beat to hell,” Powell remembered. “The saw teeth had basically been mushroomed out of existence from this lady beating on it with a piece of metal. We swapped the soldier a new one and still have that knife [above] here today.”

A TOPS Knives Black Rhino was lost when a desert barracks burned to the ground. The scales were completely gone and the knife could not be repaired. TOPS sent the destroyed piece back to the serviceman along with a brand-new Black Rhino like this one.

A Black Rhino was lost when a desert barracks burned to the ground. The owner recovered the knife. Its scales were completely gone and the knife could not be repaired. TOPS sent the destroyed piece back to the serviceman along with a brand-new Black Rhino.

“While our policy isn’t a no-fault policy, we still cover most issues,” Craig said. “We know what we’re making is quality, and we strive for that on every knife. So anything that a customer’s knife should be able to do but doesn’t is going to get covered.”

In the broadest sense, the warranty works both ways. It protects buyer and seller and invokes the sense of quality and pride of craftsmanship, with reasonable performance expectation and use. There are outliers, but for the most part both knifemaker and knife user work together with warranties to achieve positive resolutions.

More On Knife Business:

How To: Custom Knife Sales And Marketing
Knife Steel After Crucible Industries LLC
Tariffs & Knife Prices In 2025
Collaboration Knives: How Do They Come Together?
How To: Marketing Knives On Social Media

Mike Haskew

Robin Askew moves on, but her father remains there for her.

Four Careers

Nico

Traits & Quirks

Keepsakes

Read More On Bob Loveless:

Robin Askew reflects on being the daughter of Bob Loveless.

Lawndale & Riverside

Along For The Ride

Vietnam

Bob’s Beehive

Read More On Bob Loveless:

There is plenty of lore surrounding traditional Japanese Swords, but do the master makers’ time-tested methods equal modern steel advancements?

Traditional Sword Construction

Japanese Sword Features

Japanese Sword Folklore

Old & New Symbiosis

More On Swords:

From tactical rings to signature openers: analyzing the practical advantages of negative space in blade engineering.

Original Hole

Where & Why Of Holes

Holes For Balance

Holes In Karambit

Attraction Of The Design

More Knife Reviews:

User-friendly custom takes on the classic Japanese knife handle abound.

What Makes A Wa Handle?

Wa Handle Interpretations

More Kitchen Knives:

The Emerson Family shares decades and generations in knives.

Earliest Memories

Iron Lotus

Paying Tribute

Mom’s Time

Next Mission

More On Knife Business:

Some knife warranty claims stretch the limits, while others are just plain bizarre.

Judgment Calls

Case-By-Case Decisions

Extreme Situations

More On Knife Business:

Must Read Articles